Julia Spencer-Fleming - To Darkness And To Death

Russ tipped the flashlight so the beam pointed at Shaun’s starched white shirt. The edge of the light splashed across his face. “Could we take a quick look inside your office?”

“Sure.” He needed to know what Russ was looking for. He had nothing to do with this car, and there wasn’t anything in his office that might point toward the van der Hoevens. But why did Russ have him come out to see Becky Castle’s car? Wait a second. Castle. He knew a Castle. “Is this Becky Castle related to Ed Castle? Castle Logging?”

“His daughter.” Russ pointed his flashlight toward the station wagon. “Is that your car?”

Shaun’s face tightened. He forced a light tone into his answer. “Sure is.”

“Were you using it earlier today?”

“Yeah,” he lied. He dug into his pants pocket, fumbling for the office keys. “Here we are,” he said when he found them. “Let’s go on in.”

Inside the door, he flicked on the lights. The reception area sprang to life. Thank God, there was nothing amiss. He crossed the floor and unlocked the door to the inner offices. He flung it wide open. “Here they are. Nothing much has changed. Mine is where my dad’s used to be.”

Russ strolled into Shaun’s office, his gaze taking in everything. “Looks like you did some redecorating.”

“Courtney,” Shaun said.

“Nice couch. Long enough to really stretch out on.”

“Yeah, she has an eye for-” He spotted the pale pink fabric wedged in the cushions the same time Russ did.

Russ leaned forward and pulled it free. It was a pair of pink thong panties. Russ held them up on one finger. “Yours?”

“Where the hell did that come from?”

Russ bent over and pulled the leather cushions away from the couch frame. There was a scattering of coins, some crumbs, and, balled into one side, another piece of fabric. Russ lifted it, and it unfolded into filmy pale pink pantyhose. He looked at Shaun.

“I swear. I have no idea how those things got here. I never saw them before in my life.”

“Where’s that door lead to?” Russ nodded toward the far wall.

“It’s my bathroom.”

“Anybody else use it? Your secretary, maybe?” Russ opened the door and switched on the light.

“Not… usually.”

Russ’s large frame blocked Shaun’s view into the bathroom. “You sure you don’t want to rethink your statement about not knowing Becky Castle?”

“I’ve never met the woman!” Shaun struggled to keep his breathing even. In with the calm. Out with the fear. It didn’t matter what Russ thought about this Castle woman. In that, Shaun was completely, utterly blameless. The important thing was to make sure they didn’t link him to Eugene van der Hoeven. And that they stayed away from the old mill.

“Come on in and take a look.”

Shaun squeezed into the bathroom next to Russ. There, on the vanity, was a woman’s makeup bag, unzipped. Next to it was a pair of dangling chandelier-style earrings, the kind that would go with a-Shaun caught a flash of hot pink out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see a full-length strapless satin dress on the shower rod. It was dangling crookedly from its straps, as if someone had hastily looped them over the hanger and then hurried away.

“It looks to me,” Russ said, “as if a woman came in here to give someone a private showing of her fancy ball gown and all its accessories. And then she let someone take them all off.” He looked down at Shaun. “Or I suppose it could be that you’re a transvestite.”

“I am not a cross-dresser!” Shaun managed to get out.

Russ nodded. “Pink would be a lousy color for you, anyway.” He moved toward the door, forcing Shaun to back out ahead of him. “We’re still missing Becky’s coat.”

“This is ridiculous. You have no proof these are Becky Castle’s.”

Russ ignored Shaun’s protest in favor of walking back to the reception area. “This where you hang your coats?” He rolled the closet door open.

Thank God, there weren’t any strange articles of clothing hanging there. “That’s my secretary’s raincoat,” he said, “and the other two are mine.”

Russ ran his boot across the floor of the closet before patting down the coats. He dipped his hand into Shaun’s jacket’s pocket and came up with a shiny clutch of keys.

“Yours?”

Shaun shook his head. He was speechless.

“Let’s see if the slipper fits, huh?” Russ crossed to the door and stepped outside. Shaun hurried after him. Next to the green Prius, Russ bent over and, careful not to touch the car itself, inserted one of the keys. He turned it. There was a popping sound as all the locks sprang free.

Russ straightened and spoke to the uniformed cop. “Noble, will you get on the horn and get a crime scene investigation unit over here? And since Lyle headed up Becky Castle’s questioning, let’s get him on the scene, too.”

The cop nodded and disappeared into his squad car.

Russ turned to Shaun, a mournful expression hanging from his face. “So, old friend. Anything you want to tell me?”

So how come you’re going to let him go?” Lyle cocked an eyebrow at Shaun Reid, sitting slumped on his receptionist’s desk while a state police evidence technician powdered his leather sofa for prints. Reid was staring at his fingers, smudged black with ink. He had volunteered his prints after Russ told him they needed to be able to rule out the things he had touched in the office. Russ hadn’t pointed out that the prints might also rule in Shaun if he had been in Becky Castle’s car.

“We’ve got her stuff in here,” Lyle continued. “Her car parked out front. And he looks like he’s gone three rounds with a baseball bat. Skating injury, my ass.”

“Where’s he going to go?” Russ crossed his arms. They were standing in the doorway to the office, out of earshot, able to keep an eye on the work going on inside and outside, where the second technician was going over the Prius. “He and his wife are attending a dinner dance. If he were scheduled to fly out of the country, I’d be worried. The Algonquin Waters, I think we can cover.”

Lyle’s expression was half in light, half in darkness. He reminded Russ of an Iroquois false face mask, lips curving, eyes piercing. “Are you sure you’re not bending over backward to give an old friend the benefit of the doubt?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been hunting with Ed Castle for the last four years. The man handed your head to you on a platter an hour ago. I’m not saying you two were best buds, but that’s gotta hurt. I’m just wondering if you’re not hedging your bets to keep it from happening again.”

“If Shaun Reid had anything to do with Becky Castle’s assault, I’ll be first in line to haul him in. As far as letting him loose now, I have two good reasons. One.” He held up a finger. “The simplest story is the one most likely to be true. Schoof beat up Becky Castle. In support of that theory, we have the victim’s own testimony-”

“Which may be unreliable.”

“Randy Schoof’s disappearance,” Russ continued, “and the fact that your informant on the Reid-Castle affair is none other than Mrs. Randy Schoof.”

“Okay, okay. I agree, Schoof is the number one suspect. I still think there’s something weird about Reid.”

“Which brings me to point number two. I can keep an eye on him at the party tonight. Who he talks to, if he leaves, whatever.”

“Speaking of which, aren’t you supposed to be home right now? Getting all prettied up?”

Russ looked at his watch. “Crap. Yeah. Look-”

“I know. Cell phone, beeper, check-ins. We’ll stay in touch.”

Russ smiled. “Thanks, Lyle. The only reason I can do this for Linda is because I know you’re on the job.”